Chapter 422 - 368: Team Annihilation

"Kill you, you damn mongrel!"

James was powerless to refute Song Heping's words.

Because the other party was right.

After so many years and so many fights, they indeed had never won, and calling him a nemesis wasn't an exaggeration...

Song Heping's words had hit James's weak spot, enraging him even more.

The situation between the two of them was delicate.

Both had run out of firearms and were left with only bladed weapons.

Song Heping had sustained more injuries, while James had only a single wound on his palm.

However, his combat knife was now in Song Heping's hands, while he was left empty-handed.

As an experienced Green Beret, of course, he had more than one blade on him.

The combat knife was just one of them; there was also a karambit knife hidden in the pocket of his tactical vest.

The karambit knife's original design from early Indonesia was for harvesting, which is why it resembles a sickle, but after modification and development by fighting experts, it has been ingeniously applied to close-quarters combat.

The characteristics of this knife are twofold: one, its blade is short and curved, and two, there is a ring at the end of the handle that the finger slips through, acting as a stabilizer during combat, making it less likely to slip out of hand.

He slowly drew the karambit knife from his pocket, slipping it over his hand, and watched Song Heping intently.

The two squared off on the sandy riverbank.

For a time, neither took the initiative to attack.

Since both were experts, they were waiting for the other to make the first move, looking for an opening to strike a fatal blow.

Song Heping was no longer in a hurry now.

Time was on his side.

Dawn had broken.

His own people were about to arrive.

In contrast, James could also call for backup.

Unfortunately, his previous arrogance had made him forgo the opportunity, and now it was too late to call for help.

If Special Operations Command knew of his current predicament, they would surely send someone to rescue him.

The problem was, no one would expect that in less than a day, eight Green Berets would be wiped out by the head of an armed organization and an arms dealer.

"Are you a China Special Soldier?"

James couldn't help but ask a strange question.

Song Heping replied gravely, "What's the point of asking that? You're going to die anyway."

It wasn't that Song Heping was boasting.

James and he – only one of them could leave alive.

Because James had already seen his own fate.

If he survived, the CIA would quickly start tailing him.

This was definitely not good for him.

Therefore, from the moment the two of them had clashed, it was a deadlock.

"Such big words!"

Once again, James felt the humiliation from the young man before him, and he couldn't help himself – he finally initiated an attack.

However, he was very cautious, making a feint with practiced cunning. His karambit knife seemed to be slashing at Song Heping's wrist, but he was ready to switch his move midway. If Song Heping attempted to block with his knife, James would change the slash to a stab, aiming to add another cut to Song Heping's wrist.

This kind of mid-action switch in knife technique was something he had practiced countless times and counted as one of James's specialties.

He lunged forward in a flash, leaning his body, and the karambit knife swept towards Song Heping's wrist, waiting for him to fall for the feint.

Shah—

Unexpectedly, as he stepped forward with the fake move, a clump of river sand shot up against his face with a shush, hitting him squarely on the head and face.

In the moment he attacked, Song Heping had used the tip of his foot to kick up a mound of sand, projecting it towards James's face.

Taken completely by surprise, James's eyes were filled with countless grains of sand, instantly blurring his vision.

Just a moment.

That instant.

It was already too late for James to retreat.

Shua—

The sharp blade of the combat knife slashed across James's throat...

Song Heping moved back two meters, watching James coldly.

James clutched his throat, his eyes bulging out, bloodshot from the irritation of the sand, tears streaming down his cheeks.

Blood seeped through his fingers, unstoppable.

He staggered a couple of steps before finally collapsing to his knees.

Song Heping remained silent, standing quietly behind him.

A full minute passed, the bleeding only increased, completely uncontrollable.

The beach was stained red.

Plop—

Finally, the Green Beret Colonel Commander fell to the ground, lifeless.

His eyes remained open.

Perhaps out of unwillingness to accept his fate, or perhaps because he never imagined dying at the hands of his opponent in such a way.

Song Heping sat down on the ground with a thud.

He felt nearly drained.

He hadn't closed his eyes all night long.

The night had been spent in pursuit, escape, and counterattack.

Only now did he have time to inspect the wounds on his body.

There were five in all.

Slice wounds, gunshot wounds, and stab wounds.

After resting for about five minutes, Song Heping struggled to his feet and began to search through James's belongings.

He tore off James's dog tag and studied it carefully in his hand.

"James... Colonel..."

Seeing this, he looked down at James's body on the ground and sighed.

A colonel had just died.

But the incident was anything but trivial.

Song Heping now had new plans.

This matter must absolutely not be leaked, not even the slightest bit.

Morins had gone to find his subordinates, and by timing, they should have entered the Tame Jungle during the day. If he headed northwest, he would definitely run into them.

However, Song Heping no longer wanted to rendezvous with Morins.

There had been a change in plans.

From Rash's betrayal of Morins, it was clear that ELN was not secure internally.

To have killed a Green Beret at the very start, it absolutely could not let the Americans find out.

Therefore, from now on, any meetings with Morins must be highly secretive, and the method of dealing arms must also switch to using a proxy.

He would not show himself, but cultivate a proxy.

After having numerous encounters with the US Army, CIA, and Persia's Avanti, Song Heping had gradually learned some of the rules of this circle.

That was to have one's own proxy.

One couldn't naively handle everything personally.

As the arms business grew bigger, danger was bound to follow closely.

A proxy is a shield, a moat.

If trouble arose, it was them who would face it first, while he could offer support from behind the scenes but must not show his face.

Being discovered by others was one thing, but exposing oneself recklessly was utterly foolish.

Thinking of this, Song Heping dragged James's body to the water's edge and pushed it into the stream.

Watching the body drift downstream, Song Heping turned and reentered the jungle.

This time, he did not choose to head northwest.

Morins would definitely come from the northwest, searching for him along the path they had previously traveled together.

But now, he was heading northeast, which was the border between Venezuela and Colombia.

He planned to cross the border there and enter Venezuela.

Venezuela was still safe, at least for the time being. With Ramas's protection, he should be fine.

As for the upcoming arms trade, Song Heping had already planned to use a secure satellite phone to contact Morins and appoint a proxy to meet and deal with him.

After this life-and-death ordeal, Morins would have no pretenses left in front of him. Even if he didn't show up himself, the deal would still go through.

The South American market would be the next step.

Having evaded an entire Delta team and AGLAN troops' encirclement without being killed, word of this "mysterious arms dealer" was sure to spread throughout South America.

This reputation would be very beneficial for his business later on. At least for now, the ELN in Colombia would definitely be his customers, and FARC would be the next potential client. Morins had some connections with them and might be persuaded to make introductions on his behalf.

These things couldn't be rushed, one step at a time.

In the rainforest, Song Heping walked alone like a wounded beast.

Fortunately, the food and medicine scavenged from the Green Berets' corpses would sustain him and prevent his injuries from getting worse, as well as keep him from going hungry.

The distance from Tame to the border was nearly one hundred kilometers.

And it was completely covered by jungle and mountainous terrain.

For the injured Song Heping, this was undoubtedly a grueling challenge.

After nightfall, Song Heping found a tree hollow about fifteen kilometers north of Tame. He sharpened some wooden spikes to set up a trap at the entrance, then hid inside and had a sound sleep.

That sleep, it was ever so sweet.

The tension and exhaustion of the past few days were fully released in that moment.

He no longer had to worry about being hunted down.

As for the wild beasts of the jungle, he wasn't concerned. With a gun and bullets in his possession, any ferocious beasts that came his way would be as trivial as a few peanuts.

Sometime during his indistinct slumber, Song Heping thought he heard noises outside.

He sleepily opened his eyes, believing himself to be dreaming.

Soon, he was certain he wasn't dreaming.

There were indeed sounds!

They seemed to be the sounds of people talking, but he couldn't make out the words.

He woke with a start; the light coming in from outside the hollow told Song Heping it was day!

Who was in the jungle?

Local natives?

Or had US Special Forces come in search of him because of the Green Berets' demise?

But that seemed unlikely.

How would they know he'd gone northeast?

To avoid being trapped, Song Heping decided to go out and investigate.

He carefully crawled out of the hollow, avoiding the traps at the entrance, and then lay low in the bushes, carefully listening to determine the direction of the sounds.

At the same time, he switched the safety off his MK18 assault rifle, checked the silencer, and slowly crawled to the back of a large tree, where he lay in wait with patience.

Finally, the voices grew closer, though still quiet, showing that the others were also being careful.

Song Heping could tell they weren't local natives; they seemed to be speaking a language other than Spanish...

Rustle, rustle, rustle—

The footsteps indicated not just one or two individuals, but several.

Another small squad.

Song Heping felt he had reached the peak of bad luck.

Enough already! What is it this time? A Seal team? Delta?

Or a Colombian special squad?

"Bring it on..." Song Heping sighed in resignation: "I'll just have to kill them and be done with it..."

When the footsteps got within about ten meters, Song Heping slowly extended his rifle from the side of the tree, aiming in the direction of the newcomers through the cover of the bush leaves.

Several figures appeared in view, walking in single file, with the one in front unusually tall, like a black bear.

Song Heping frowned, but as he recognized the approaching figures, he exclaimed in surprise, "Disaster Star!"